


Five Times Kissed

by fullonzombae



Category: iZombie (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Post S3, Unplanned Pregnancy, in which blaine is as subtle as a brick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-01-05 18:51:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12195627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fullonzombae/pseuds/fullonzombae
Summary: A snippet of five times Liv's lips met Blaine's.





	1. Courtin' Disaster

"Wow. I gotta say, that is one killer dress."

Of all the bars in Seattle, Blaine McDonough had to have walked into this one. Liv closed her eyes, praying that he might just disappear before she turned around again. After all, she was here with, of all people, Chase Graves.

It had been a simple enough arrangement. Agreeing that their one night stand shouldn't have been the only chapter in their story, Liv had agreed to Chase's request for a date. But so far, the chemistry was missing, with Liv feeling that she had heard one too many stories about Chase's womanising ways. Most of them had come from Chase himself.

"What are you doing here, Blaine?" she hissed, her eyes narrowed as he ordered himself a drink. "Isn't this considered 'the competition'? A business rival?" She watched as he raised the glass to his lips, her shoulders rising and falling as she awaited an answer.   
  
"A good businessman keeps on top of the competition," he pointed out, plucking the olive from the glass. "Don't worry, I didn't follow you here. You've tanned and dyed. I'm guessing it's a date?" His teeth closed around the olive, tugging it from the cocktail stick as he watched Liv intently.

She exhaled, reaching for her mojito. "Yeah. Yeah, it is."

"And he's abandoned you for a phone call. What a moron."

Liv had never worked out entirely how the zombie body worked. As a highly ranked member of the undead, she could experience arousal, something that most would have thought impossible given the lowered pulse. But blushing was somehow out of her grip. The old Liv, however, the living Liv, would have turned a deeper shade of pink at his comment. "He's... It was from... It wasn't something he could turn down." She stumbled for an excuse, one that wouldn't tell Blaine just who Chase was talking to.

"All I'm saying, Liv. If I were him, I certainly wouldn't be prioritising anything else over you." He raised his glass, tipping it in her direction, before knocking back the contents. "But I'm not here to cramp your style. I'm not that much of an ass."

He was gone before Chase returned, having left Liv at the bar for a good five minutes. Five minutes in which she mulled over Blaine's words, five minutes in which she had come to resent Chase's temporary abandonment.

* * *

  
It was gone 11pm when Blaine was interrupted by the sound of knocking on his door. He silently cursed as he laid down the brain he'd been working on, sealing the tupperware box that had become its temporary home.

As he pulled the front door open, he found himself face to face with Liv - drunk, irritated, yet still stunning, Liv. His brow creased as he stepped aside to let her in, trying to work out just what she was doing here.

"Why did you have to show up? Tonight, of all nights?"

Yeah, she really was drunk. He exhaled and pinched at his nose as she jabbed a finger in his direction, preparing himself for the lecture that was about to come.

"My date was going perfectly fine." Lie. "Would have carried on that way if you hadn't turned up." Denial. "But no, you had to turn up, stick your nose in, comment on how I looked and tell me... what was it?" She was swaying slightly, and Blaine wondered how much effort he'd have to put into pushing her over. Not much, he decided, reasoning that he could probably just blow in her general direction.

"That I wouldn't be prioritising anything over you, were I the one dating you?"

"Yes!" Her voice rose, and she jabbed her finger into his chest with a surprising amount of force. "Why, Blaine? Why would you do that? Try and get into my head?"

It hadn't been his intention. After all, as far as Blaine had been aware, someone like Liv wouldn't have looked twice in his direction. She already knew his flaws, and she'd already hated him for them. And yet, here she was, angrier at him than he'd ever seen her. "I'm... I think I'm supposed to say sorry." He pursed his lips, trying to work out what he should be apologising for. "Not sure what for, though. I'm sorry I implied that you deserved better than being pushed to one side on a date, because he couldn't cancel... work commitments? I'm going with work commitments. I'm sorry if I offended you by telling you that that dress is... I mean, wow. And I'm sorry I didn't tell you just how fucking amazing you..."

He was cut off by Liv's lips suddenly meeting his, in a kiss almost as angry and as passionate as she was. For a moment, he could swear he could taste that mix of mojitos and sangrias, and as he felt her hands cup his face, he brought a hand up to her back, pulling her closer. For a moment, he was as intoxicated as she was, and he parted his lips against hers, deepening the kiss. He wanted this, of course he did. In fact, Blaine tried to think of any time he'd wanted anything so pure - someone who knew his flaws, knew that he knew his flaws, and yet was still here in his arms, as if he was the only thing that mattered.

It took a moment for the realisation to sink in, however, that Liv - unlike him - was drunk. And this was a decision, he reckoned, that she would come to regret in the morning. He broke off the kiss, not yet pulling away fully from Liv. "Liv," he whispered, brushing a lock of hair back behind her ear. "Liv, you're..."

He watched how the mortification flooded every feature on her face, and he wished - not for the first time - that he could have been someone else. Here he was, actively trying not to be a scumbag, and it was about to cost him the girl. He had wanted for her to come to her senses, for her to sober up yet, by some small miracle, still decide that this was what she wanted. He dropped his hand, reluctant, and watched, dismayed as Liv stepped back.

Would it be too much to beg her to stay?

But before the question could leave his lips, before he could invite her to join him for a coffee, a soda, anything to keep her company just a while longer, she turned towards the door. "Liv, wait."

It was as if his pleading only spurned her on more, and Blaine was left with the slamming of the door as Liv left Shady Plots, and nothing more than the taste of her upon his lips.


	2. Birthday Cake

Liv hated silence at the best of times. Even more so when the silence fell in her apartment. On her birthday.

Of course, it wasn't Peyton's fault that her job had dragged her away from Seattle for a month, and she was happy for her. And she couldn't have expected Ravi or Clive to take time off work. But here she was, left to her own devices, on what should have been her 31st birthday.

Messages had found their way to her phone, wishing her many happy returns, hoping she had an amazing day, the usual mindless drivel that came with Facebook, and everyone being notified of your birthday. All it would take to pretend you remembered was a click of a button, and a post to a wall. The same monotonous message, day in, day out.

Another year, however, and the birthday cards from her mother and Evan remained conspicuously absent. She could line up the ones from Major, Ravi, Clive - even Chase had sent one in a typically formal manner. But having her birthday willfully ignored by her mother left a void, a reminder that things weren't going back to how they were.

By midday, Liv had collapsed onto the couch, Game of Thrones boxset in hand. Her addiction with this show could be blamed solely on Clive, and she curled up with a glass of wine as the opening credits began to play.

As blood began pouring from each of Joffrey's orifices, Liv was interrupted by a knocking at her door. She sighed, pausing the show, and made her way to the door, ready to release a tongue lashing on whoever disturbed her glee at Joffrey's demise.

"Hey! You're not seriously at home, alone, on your birthday, are you?"

It was the first time she'd seen Blaine since her date with Chase had gone disastrously wrong, and she scowled slightly at the sight of him, standing on her doorstep - cocksure and gleefully reminding her just how alone she was.

"No, seriously. Where is everyone?" He poked his head around the door, before frowning slightly. "They didn't get the memo?"

"They had work." Liv's curt tone was accompanied by her folding her arms, lifting her chin as she glared up at him. "Not everyone can just leave their staff to it.What are you doing here?"

Blaine stepped into the apartment, and Liv decided against ordering him to leave, instead making her way back to the sofa. Maybe he'd realise that a series finale took priority over him, and he'd leave her to her show. Maybe he'd realise that his rejection had cut deeper than she cared to admit, and he'd leave her to lick her wounds in peace. But instead, he followed her to the sofa, sitting beside her.

"Peyton said she thought everyone might be a bit busy."

"She's with Cavanaugh now, Blaine. Don't get your..."

"We're just friends," he protested, holding his hands up defensively. "And I know. She seems happy. He's not treating her like a trophy, she's not worried he's going to collosally fuck up. It's good. I'm happy for her."

It was an element of maturity that she hadn't been expecting, nor had she been expecting him to make himself at home with such ease.

"Besides. I'm not here for her, Liv." He rummaged through his bag, pulling out a small box, and handed it over to Liv. As she went to open it, she looked up at him, her expression filled with curiosity.

"It's not brains, is it? Or drug-laced whatever?"

"Just open the box." The fleeting suggestion that he may have been offended was replaced with a knowing smirk, and Liv turned her attention back to the box, opening it.

Inside, sat a lone cupcake, delicately iced and adorned with a candle. Blaine leaned over. As he lit the candle, he pressed a kiss to Liv's cheek, lingering long enough for her to realise that she had been wrong, her feelings that night had been returned.

"Happy Birthday, Liv," he whispered as he pulled away, ready to stand and leave, when she turned, taking his face in her hands, and pressed a kiss to his lips. She could have sworn she tasted the aftermath of dutch courage - whiskey, of course - and she pressed closer, parting her lips as she felt his hand on her back, pulling her towards him.

As they broke off the kiss, he reached over for the cupcake, holding it up for Liv. "Make a wish, then," Blaine whispered, a fond smile upon his lips.


	3. Dead Set on Living - Part One

"And you're sure it works?" Blaine wrinkled his nose as he looked down at the syringe. "I mean, I'm not saying I don't trust you, Doc, but Liv's waited long enough."

Ravi tightened the tourniquet around Blaine's arm, carefully examining every vein. "You offered to be the guinea pig, yes? Then please. Shut up and let me test the damned thing." He looked up at Blaine, watching as Blaine screwed his eyes shut, refusing to look at the needle.

"Do you have any of that numbing stuff?" He felt as though every fibre of his being had tensed, and he tried to reason with the brains that sat in the pit of his stomach. This was his breakfast's fear, not his. "Or can you administer it orally?"

"Are you going to keep putting this off? I mean, I know it's not your fear, but really." Ravi sat back, his nostrils flaring as he exhaled through his nose. "It's just one little needle. Nothing more than a scratch, and bam. Human again. That's how you'd peddle it, right?"

The tension eased from Blaine, and he looked at Ravi. "Nothing more than a scratch? You're not the one on the other end of the needle. My life depends on that syringe, and then, after that, Liv's life. But sure. No pre..." He was cut off by a faint stabbing feeling, and yelled out in surprise. "You're a doctor! You know full well there's no ethics..."

"Oh, what do you know about ethics?" Ravi pulled the now empty syringe from Blaine's arm, shooting him a forced smile. "I mean, is that the bit where you lie about memory loss? The part where you kidnap and murder homeless teens? Or is it the extortion?"

"... Just because I didn't follow your idea of ethics, doesn't mean I don't understand them. In fact, I've got a better understanding of ethics than most, which is why I got away with so much." Once, there'd have been pride behind his words. And once, there'd have been shame. But now, his words came flat and expressionless. "So, what am I expecting with this?"

Ravi fastened the cuff around Blaine's arm, recording Blaine's blood pressure as he did so. "Provided the rats provided an accurate representation of how the cure will affect the human zombies, then it shouldn't be anything too extreme. You'll likely feel a bit crappy for a few days. It seems to take a little longer for the cure to kick in properly. Nothing worse than a bout of nausea, possibly accompanied by vomiting. Loss of appetite. There'll be a little exhaustion, but it shouldn't last past a week."

"A week. So, what. It'll be like withdrawal?"

"... I was going to say a viral infection, but sure. Stick to what you know. Obviously, you need to abstain from sex. Avoid situations where you could either be scratched or could scratch someone else. You might still have cravings for brains for a while, might find human food to still be a little bland..."

"Wait. Wait. No sex? Whatsoever?" Blaine let out a pitiful whine, leaning back in his chair. "Is oral safe, at least?"

* * *

 

Blaine looked down at the plate Liv had set before him, his mouth set into a firm line. She was trying to help. He knew that. But the stew looked nothing more than a disgusting gloop. "... You sure I can't have some of yours?" He picked at a piece of beef, his shoulders rising and falling.

"You should have told me, you know?"

"What, so you could come along, hold my hand? Reassure me it'd all be okay? I didn't think you were ready to go 'Friends Official'." He watched as her head fell slightly, and he regretted his words almost straight away.

"Can you blame me for wanting to take things slow? Look at everything, Blaine. Hell, there was a time I'd have happily killed you and called it a public service."

"You certainly had opportunity to do so, so why didn't you? I mean, you were quick enough to pull the trigger on Drake..."

She stared at him, and Blaine knew he'd gone too far. What had possessed him to even mention his former... oh, he didn't know what to call Drake anymore. He watched as Liv pushed her chair back, and he began to protest. "Liv, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have..." She wasn't waiting around for an answer. Before he could even try to justify his words, Liv turned and stormed out of the room, her bedroom door slamming behind her.

He waited, the moments ticking by, before Blaine stood and walked over to her bedroom door. "Liv? I'm sorry. I'm an ass - you know that. I just... You know what? We could go on about what an ass I am for hours. If it makes you feel better, feel free to do so. But you know what- and I cannot believe I'm admitting this - but perhaps I'm a little scared? Two weeks, and you could be human again. And then what? You take a look at me, see all the shit I've done, and decide that you can't forgive me after all." He sat down, his back to the door, and rested his head against the doorjamb. "I had something amazing before, with Peyton. And I fucked that up. But you... It's different. It's... I don't have to put on a front with you. I'm a dick, and somehow, you're still here. Or, I assume you are. If that fuck up out there wasn't the last straw..." Blaine extended his hand, examining his fingernails, before letting out a heavy sigh. "But what I'm trying to say, Liv, is that... and I know I fuck up, and it might not seem like it sometimes, but I'm trying. I'm trying to be a better person. I'm trying, because I found someone that brings out the best in me, without erasing who I used to be, and..." He inhaled and closed his eyes, licking his lips before he spoke. "... And I'm scared of losing you, because, Olivia Moore, I love you."

He fell silent, and sat waiting, one leg outstretched, the other knee pulled up to his chest. After a while, he pushed himself up and made his way towards the front door, grabbing his coat on the way.

"You love me?" Liv emerged from the bedroom, her eyes red from crying. Somehow, she had never looked more beautiful, but Blaine hated himself in that moment for hurting her. He nodded. As she walked closer, he swallowed, fearing her reaction. Had it been too soon? Had he said too much, or had he done too much? Was she about to tell him this was nothing more than companionship and a meaningless fling? "You... You love me."

"Yeah."

"Say it again."

Blaine narrowed his eyes as she stopped in front of him, wondering if this was some kind of test. "I... You're not going to slap me, are you?" Her laughter was a relief, and he exhaled. "I love you."

Her answer came, silent and swift, as she stood on her tiptoes, kissing him tenderly as her arms wrapped around his neck. Taking a moment to react, Blaine wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer, dropping his coat to the floor.


	4. Dead Set On Living - Part Two

Blaine dropped the contract onto his desk. "Here's the deal, Don E. See, I've no interest in the brains business anymore. I can keep Shady Plots. You... Well, you've proved your worth over the years. I want my name out of any business you have. I'm not here to serve Graves anymore. I've got no interest in being his pawn."

"So, what's the catch?" Don flicked through the form, his nose wrinkling as he read through the terms. Blaine waited, his fingers laced together as they propped up his chin. His friend's cynicism was well deserved, and Blaine watched him quietly. Working for Graves had turned out to be more hassle than it was worth, and Blaine thought back to a discussion he'd had with Peyton almost a year ago. She had sat where Don E sat now, as he told her that the version of him he'd presented had been the real deal. Small business owner who felt like the luckiest man alive.

He hadn't been lying. Not then.

Now, Liv seemed to know everything he got up to. Every time he threatened someone, every time he bumped up the prices on someone's fees, just because he'd taken a dislike to them. Sometimes, a firm ticking off was enough to get him to back down. Sometimes, he won the battle. But Liv, he entrusted her with something he had never given Peyton. His honesty.

"No catch. You just keep Graves off my case. I mean, you keep from scratching anyone, Don E, and you've got this. No point having the living running the zombie watering hole, now, is there?" He stood, his chair scraping against the wood of the floor as he did so. "Look. Mull it over. Get back to me. I've got somewhere I need to be."

* * *

 

He could tell Liv was nervous. Had there been carpet on the morgue floor, she would have worn a crop circle into it by now. Back and forth. Blaine lifted his mug to his lips as he felt the needle against his skin, wincing slightly.

"Well, we're certainly getting enough blood from you. Heart rate's slightly elevated, but nothing I can't mark down to adrenaline. BP's normal. You're not expecting a sticker, are you?" Ravi screwed the cap onto the blood sample and tossed it into the tray, before fastening a cotton swab to the crook of Blaine's arm.

"I've got a bottle of whiskey lined up at home, two glasses, and a hot date. That's better than any sticker."

Ravi seemed to be willfully ignoring the comment about a hot date. As he filled in the forms, Blaine caught Liv's attention, flashing her a quick smile.

"Won't be long, and this will all be over. Seattle'll be back to normal. You get to go back to being that busybody you prided yourself on being beforehand. And..." He fell silent as she pulled herself up onto the autopsy table before him. Did she realise how hard it was to keep his hands to himself whilst she was around, how he just wanted to pull her into another kiss, like the ones they shared when they were alone?

"And what about you?"

"The lowly owner of a funeral parlour. It'll bring in a comfortable income, it's a respectable career, and that's one thing you can always rely on. People dying."

"What about the Post? The brain dealing?" Blaine answered her questions with a shake of his head.

"I don't want that anymore, Liv. Hell, I spent years trying to be my father. Look where that got me."

"Just a shame you couldn't have had that epiphany a few years back. Let's say around the time of a certain boat party?" Ravi said as he emerged from the office with another syringe. Liv fumbled with her sleeve and presented her arm to Ravi, fixing her gaze on Blaine.

"You can't undo all that, Blaine."

"I know. But this? It's a second chance."

"Fourth." Ravi's comment came as the needle pushed into Liv's skin, and for a moment, Blaine resented the way she laughed. "I'd say that first cure was a second chance, and look what you did with that. I mean, hell, Blaine..."

"I wasn't as bad. I'm actively trying not to be an ass, surely I get some credit for that?"

He was answered by Liv, shaking her head, and he groaned in response. "Sorry, McDonough. Gotta try harder than that. You don't get brownie points for not killing anyone."

"Or refraining from extortion. Or not drug-dealing. " Ravi carried on the list as he examined Liv carefully. "Or from actually telling the truth. Talking of which, nice job." He gestured to Liv as he looked back at Blaine. "You actually didn't try to fuck her over this time. That's got to be a first."

He didn't notice the way Liv was looking at him, and the words that followed Ravi's came as a surprise.

"You've got to find a way to put something good back into the world. And not for the purpose of getting the girl, or whatever. It'll never be enough, but maybe - just maybe - it'll be a start." She jumped down from the table and tugged her sleeve down, before wrapping her arms around Ravi in a tight hug. "I'll let you know," she whispered, and Blaine watched in silence as she left.

"Well, she's gone, that's my cue." Blaine turned, finding himself face to face with Ravi.

"I swear, Blaine, if you hurt her, I'll drag Chase to your door myself, with a full list of your crimes. You ever fuck up, you break her heart, you lie to her..."

Blaine watched, wondering just how long Ravi had known. Reaching out, he offered a pat to Ravi's arm, before ducking out the way. "Look. I know you haven't got the highest opinion of me. And I could ask you to give me a chance, but you made your views on my chances perfectly clear. But if I have a chance to make her happy, I'm gonna take it. We both know what we're getting into, and if she's willing to take that risk, then please, don't stand in her way." He relaxed as Ravi stepped back, watching as the tension seemed to lift from Ravi's shoulders, however slightly. "What I ask, though. If you think I'm gonna fuck up, call me out. Because it's not gonna be my intention. I've hurt her enough to last a lifetime, and these past few months, I've realised just how much I regret that."

"Do you love her?"

Blaine didn't miss a beat. "More than anything. It's why I've signed The Scratching Post and the brains dealership over to Don E. I want out from all of that."

Ravi narrowed his eyes, his head tilted. "For how much."

Blaine reached into his pocket, pulling out a folded copy of the contract. As Ravi read the pages, Blaine turned to leave. "... I won't fuck this up, Ravi. I swear."

As Blaine reached the top of the stairs, Liv was waiting for him. He could have sworn he'd heard the door open and close - before Ravi had confronted him, but as he tried to recount his memories, Liv interrupted his thoughts.

"Did you mean it? What you said just then."

How could she have not believed him? Blaine's brow creased, running back through the words. "Of course I meant it. Christ, Liv. What, you think I'm just gonna lay all of that out there, for a laugh... Wait, you knew Ravi was going to..." She nodded. "You planned it." Another nod and Blaine laughed, disbelieving. Tricked by Olivia Moore, of all people. He opened his mouth to speak, only to find himself interrupted as Liv lifted herself onto the tips of her toes and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.


	5. Two Pink Lines

Liv's hands trembled as she held the test up to watch the results. The first line formed slowly, telling her that she had performed the test correctly. This was, after all, the second one. The first one had fallen into the toilet, and although it had given her a response, she had wondered if it could have been corrupted.

Her suspiscions had started as Blaine had placed her coffee beside her and she realised that the smell of his aftershave as he leaned in to kiss her made her nauseous. He had protested that he was wearing no more than usual, but the scent had suffocated her. Not long after arriving at work, she had found herself running from the morgue in an attempt to quell her queasy stomach. It had been Ravi who had pointed out that she - Olivia Moore - was the least squeamish person he knew. This came as little comfort when called through the bathroom door whilst she leaned over the toilet.

"I've been careful," Liv retorted as Ravi put the suggestion to her. "Condoms. The pill. Pregnancy? That's not happening." Her hand rested over her stomach all the same, as if it might provide her some enlightenment. "Kids are not on the agenda. Can you see it, really? Blaine would go running, 90 miles an hour, in the other direction. And who would blame him?"

"Would he, though? Liv, he's surprised us all. He promised he'd go legit if it meant he'd keep you. He's kept to that." Ravi set a chamomile tea down on the autopsy table beside her. "I'm never going to be the guy's biggest fan, but credit where credit's due."

Liv shook her head, her attention fixed on the hem of her skirt. "And if you're wrong? Ravi, I could utter the words, and that'd be it, he'd be out the door. He's already told me he's not planning on kids, and with his dad, can you blame him? Blaine doesn't know what a stable family life is..."

"Give him the choice at the very least, Liv. Let him make his own mind up." Ravi caught Liv's chin with his hand, tilting Liv's face up to look at him. "Worst case scenario, he walks out. You've still got choices from there, and you deserve better than some man who walks out because there's a baby on the way."

"I can't do the single-mom thing. I watched my own mother struggle through it." She pulled away from Ravi's touch, averting her gaze. "What, one income, all the stress, no-one to back you up when things go wrong or call you out when you go too far. I can't do this alone, Ravi."

"You won't be going it alone, though. Whatever you choose to do, you've got me. Clive. Peyton. Dale..."

"That's not the same, and you know it."

"Yeah, I'm not the one writing off my boyfriend for how I think he'll react to a potential pregnancy." Ravi sighed, walking over and grabbing Liv's phone. "Take the afternoon off, call him, work out where you're going from here." He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, tugging her into a comforting hug, and as Liv felt his lips press against her temple, she closed her eyes, taking comfort in the knowledge that - no matter what - Ravi would be by her side.

  
The apartment was silent when Liv arrived home, and she found Blaine, sprawled out on the sofa in a deep sleep. Humanity seemed more tiring for him, as if his body was trying to readjust to actually needing the sleep he had insisted on missing out on. She made her way through to the kitchen and carefully examined the contents of the fridge, taking in the various things she could no longer eat. Grabbing a bottle of water, she made her way over to the sofa and sat next to Blaine, tugging the throw over him.

"I'm scared you'll leave, once you know," she whispered. "I'm scared you'll freak out, or tell me this isn't what you want, tell me you never wanted kids. I'm scared that my body might be damaged beyond repair, that I can't have this baby, or that I'll end up having to do it alone." He didn't move, and Liv was thankful - would he understand her concerns, she wondered. Would he comfort her, or would he be frustrated by her lack of faith in this situation they found themselves in? She sighed and rested her head on his shoulder, waiting for sleep to claim her.

She woke as the first wave of nausea hit, and Liv scrambled from the sofa, running for the bathroom. She hadn't been able to pinpoint the cause this time, other than a small lifeform that had taken her womb hostage. As the nausea subsided, she settled back against the bathroom wall and closed her eyes, waiting for the possibility that an apple-seed sized anomaly would insist that - this time - it didn't like the smell of the air fragrance in the bathroom.

"You okay?" Blaine was watching her from the doorway, and Liv cursed him and his silent footsteps. She nodded and drew her knees up to her chest.

"Probably something I ate." Lying had never been her forte, but in this moment, she could barely make sense of the world, let alone that another world was growing inside her. Blaine crossed the bathroom and sat beside her, tugging her close.

"Probably?" He frowned slightly, before settling down to rest his head on her lap. "Not anything else?" He watched her face, and Liv knew that he was concerned. He had watched for every possible side effect, pointing out just how much more vulnerable she would be to the cure, given that she had never taken reprise from the zombie form. Every sneeze, every cough, had gone monitored and reported back to Ravi, despite Liv protesting that she was fine. "Because if I need to get you to the hospital, _now_ would be a good time to tell me."

"Blaine, I'm fine."

"You practically baulked when I tried to kiss you this morning. And you never leave your coffee. Didn't touch your breakfast, so if something's wrong, Liv..."

"I'm pregnant." She cut in, desperate to stop his spiral of chaotic thinking. It was that, or listen to him weighing up the facts, comparing them to worst case scenarios. Liv watched as he wrestled with the words she'd said, watching shock, disbelief and fear flash across his face.

This was it. He would panic and flee, and that would be the end of them.

Blaine pushed himself up, sitting so he could face Liv. "We were careful. You're on the pill. We've used condoms. Liv, we've been so fucking careful..."

"Peyton's birthday." The answer had fitted into place, and Liv sighed, leaning back against the bathroom wall. "We were drunk and forgot. The next morning, I was hungover to the point of being sick. I guess... Just takes one mistake. I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" Blaine sounded incredulous at her apology, and he shifted his weight onto his knees, taking her face in his hands and pressing a kiss to her forehead. "You don't... No. No, there's no need to be sorry. Sure, this wasn't what we had planned, but it's happening. So, what do we do?"

"... You're not leaving me?"

"Why the fuck would I leave you, Liv?" He lifted her chin to look at her. "Liv, if I hurt you, I've got Ravi coming after me with... Well, I don't know. Not actually scared of Ravi. But I promised him, didn't I? Promised _you_. I've fucked up God knows how much. I'm not screwing this up, Liv. So, whatever you choose, whatever you want to do, I'm here."

Liv wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, burying her face in his shoulder, a sob of relief escaping her as her hands gripped at his shirt. Blaine's arms were a promise of safety, however, and he pulled her closer, until she was balanced on his lap, his lips seeking hers for a needy, reassuring kiss, each seeking the answers they both needed.

"Marry me," he whispered as she broke the kiss. His thumb traced over her lower lip as he continued. "None of this is what we planned, but you and me? We're good together. I... Look, we know each other well enough. This isn't some fool rushing into things, this is me, begging the most impossible, resilient and amazing woman I've ever known... No, not begging... Asking her... to marry me. And if you say no, I get it. But this is what I want."

She answered him, not with words, but with her lips catching his once more.


	6. The Wedding

The rain hadn't stopped all day. It was somewhat typical of Seattle, and a running joke that had come to fruition. Looks like it was twenty bucks to Major, with his prediction that the heavens would open the moment he woke. And oh, how it had rained.

But Liv, as she always was, had been a ray of sunshine. Radiant, beautiful, and a reminder that he may just be the luckiest man alive. He had watched in awe as Major had led her down the aisle, and in a rare moment, had found himself lost for words when all he had wanted to tell her that she was - in every way - perfect.

It had taken them years to get here. From enemies, to reluctant allies, to friends - sometimes even back to enemies once more. But eventually, it had blossomed into something that was in equal parts perfect and flawed. He loved her, entirely, and she loved him. He didn't doubt that. She was, after all, carrying his child. She lit up the moment he entered the room, and that flame had refused to die out, if even for a second.

So why was it he had run? He had left her at the altar, battling down the feelings of nausea, the fear that consumed him. He had found himself at his mother's grave, his knees hugged to his chest. His father had never cared enough to visit, and Blaine had found solitude as he sat talking to Laura McDonough (1960 - 1993).

"We're not going to turn out like them." Liv's voice came from behind him, and Blaine stretched his legs out, a desperate attempt to look less vulnerable.

"Don't know what you're talking about."

"You do, and we said we weren't going to do this anymore."

He leaned back and looked up at her, his nostrils flaring as he exhaled. Ah, yes. He remembered the old discussion about 'not bottling things up', the reminders that people were there for him. He had years and years of 'being alone' to unlearn, and it was time to remember that not everyone was an Angus McDonough, a Frieda Bader. Not everyone would sell him out at the first chance, and not everyone was going to hurt him.

"What if we screw it up? What if I turn out like him, Liv?" He looked back at the headstone, his weight on his hands as he tilted his head. "What if being a monster is in my blood?"

"It's not going to happen." She lowered herself to the ground and sat beside him.

"Liv, your dress..."

"It's only a dress." He could smell her shampoo as she rested her head on his shoulders, and he turned to inhale the scent. "You know how I know it's not going to happen? We're here. Our wedding day, and we're sat by your mother's grave as you have an existential crisis."

"And you're getting your dress all muddy. Your dream dress, Liv, and it's... what... seventy-five percent mud? Good going." If he could bottle the sound of her laughter, the only response she gave, he would. He'd replay it at the reception, in place of his speech, because none of the words he had written had truly captured her perfection.

"Oh, shut up and tell me about her."

He had told Liv about her, time and time again. Never here, though. And certainly not as she'd sat beside him on their wedding day, in a dress that had once been only slightly off-white, not a horrendous shade of brown. "You're going to catch a chill." He shrugged off his jacket and draped it around her shoulders. She gripped at the collar, tightening the jacket around her, and looked up at him.

"Fine. Here's the deal. You tell me about her, and then I'll get up, head back to that church with you, and I'll marry you."

"Well, when you put it like that..." He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "She was amazing, Liv. She just had this presence about her that could fill a room. Couldn't sing to save her life, but she never stopped singing. Not unless it was one of her bad days. She had these beautiful dresses, and my god... Her perfume, Liv. Passed a woman in Trader Joe's last week, and she was wearing the same damned scent. Took me right back. She just had this beautiful soul about her, and then..." He trailed off, lifting his chin. "Do I have to finish? Or may we just skip the part where this turns into a horror, and just get married instead?"

Liv stood, with all the uneasiness that came with pregnancy, steadying herself using Blaine's shoulder. For a moment longer, he watched the headstone, before looking up at her, a bittersweet smile upon his lips.

"She would have loved you, you know?" He stood, taking a look at the way the mud had saturated her dress, the way her hair fell limp around her face, the hairstylist's work undone by the rain. And whilst he hated how his fears had propelled him out of the church, this did nothing but reassure him. She loved him, and any doubt was pushed aside by the way that she straightened his tie, the way her hand came to rest on his shoulder.

"We should get back. Ravi was stalling the priest. Something about religious undertones in Star Wars..."

She didn't finish what she was saying. She didn't have a chance, as Blaine leaned in, capturing her lips with his as he pulled her closer.


End file.
